


return (to love)

by aserenitatum



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aserenitatum/pseuds/aserenitatum
Summary: Considering she’d had a moment to herself before speaking, Stacie doesn’t expect to be so floored by the sight of Aubrey, three years and hundreds of miles away from where they’d last seen each other.“Hi,” she manages with a small smile because for as badly as things had ended between them, she is happy to see Aubrey.“Hi.”or, the AU where Aubrey walks into Stacie's bar years after they graduated high school
Relationships: Stacie Conrad/Aubrey Posen
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	return (to love)

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through my evernote and found this in my drafts, thought I'd post it since it was just collecting dust.  
> Enjoy!

_one._

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a long lost Titan in my bar?” 

Aubrey laughs softly at the words, looking up at the familiar voice and it takes her barely a second to recognise the tall brunette as she ties her apron in place and rounds the bar. 

“Stacie Conrad,” she says as her eyes trail down the woman’s body and despite the turmoil that has driven her to the bar on Christmas Eve, she smiles. 

“Aubrey Posen,” Stacie confirms, drumming her fingers along the counter as she stops in front of Aubrey. “What are you doing back here?” 

“Right now I’m looking for a drink,” she says and it comes out with a bit of an edge so Stacie just shoots her a wry smile and holds up her hands innocently. 

“What can I get you?” 

“Do you have a single malt over 18?” 

“I have a Macallan.” 

“I’ll take a glass of that, neat,” Aubrey says with a quick smile. 

Stacie turns her back to Aubrey, crouching down and unlocking a cabinet under the other liquors and Aubrey’s smile widens when the woman turns back to her with a very familiar bottle. 

“Here’s the thing,” Stacie says as she rests the bottle in front of her. “This is a 300 dollar bottle.” 

“I’m not going to buy the bottle,” Aubrey says immediately but again, Stacie just shakes her head and holds up a hand innocently. 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she explains. “If all you’re going to do is have one shot of this, I’d rather give you a red label whisky soda for free.” 

Aubrey gives a soft chuckle, eyes dropping to the bottle. “Make it a double.” 

Stacie doesn’t say anything as she uncorks the bottle and pours a generous amount into a lowball glass she sets in front of Aubrey. 

“How much do I owe you?” 

“You can pay at the end of the night,” Stacie waves away as she stores the bottle and when she turns back, Aubrey can’t help but look at her curiously. 

“Do you need my credit card for the tab?” she teases as she lifts the glass and takes a small sip, her eyes briefly fluttering closed as she enjoys the smooth, oak taste of the liquor. 

“Oh, yes because it’s so crowded tonight I won’t be able to keep track of what you’re drinking,” Stacie says in the driest, most monotone voice Aubrey’s ever heard in her life, Stacie’s face remaining bored as she keeps her eyes on Aubrey. 

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up at that as she casts a glance around the room, eyes lingering on the old man slumped in his chair in the corner with a bottle of beer in hand and another man sprawled at the other end of the bar, half asleep. 

“I’m sorry for… earlier,” Aubrey says when her face is half-turned away still. “I’m just having a rough time.” 

“It’s alright,” Stacie says with a shrug and a soft smile as she fusses with something behind the bar that Aubrey can’t see. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” she says immediately, more out of instinct than anything. 

“That’s fine too,” Stacie says with a kind smile and Aubrey considers the option. She’d come to the bar because she needed to get away from her family and the weight of the holidays looming over them and there aren’t a lot of people she can talk to about this, and she’s not going to involve anybody in the mess, so the option of talking to Stacie is looking better and better as every second passes. 

“My grandma is sick,” she says in a quick rush of words, staring deep into her glass as her fingers swirl over the edge. “And they don’t know if she’s going to make it.” 

“I’m sorry,” Stacie says softly and Aubrey doesn’t need to lift her head to know the pitying look being sent her way. 

Aubrey shrugs, takes another sip. “So Christmas is pretty much ruined.” 

“It could be worse?” 

“What, she could be dead?” Aubrey asks and finally meets Stacie’s eyes, sees the grimace there and something about the surreality of her situation, back in the town she grew up in, sitting at a bar with her middle school crush serving her expensive whisky while her grandmother is in the hospital, all on Christmas Eve, finally make her crack, a laugh bubbling up from her chest and her hand flying up to cover her mouth. 

Stacie doesn’t laugh and if anything, her frown seems to deepen which in turn just makes Aubrey laugh harder. 

“I’m sorry,” she says between giggles. “I know that’s not funny.” 

And yet she can’t stop laughing about it, her laughs growing louder despite her efforts to curb it and she attracts the attention of the man at the other end of the bar because Stacie looks his way and shakes her head dismissively as she remains in front of Aubrey. 

It’s a long while later when her laughter peters out to soft, breathless chuckles until she stops altogether and there’s only silence as she stares at her glass again, wiping her eyes dry from the tears of laughter because they threaten to fall, and once she starts crying she’s not sure she’ll stop. 

“Sorry. That’s really not funny,” she says softly to herself as she shakes her head. 

“No need for an apology,” Stacie dismissed. “I get it.” 

“The grief?” 

“Yeah.” 

Aubrey tilts her head slightly as she watches Stacie, the way the woman doesn’t seem to shy away from the sadness or try to cover it up with a distraction, staring right back at Aubrey with a small, sad smile. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks with a small smile of her own and the corners of Stacie’s mouth twitch upwards. 

“No,” she says teasingly and Aubrey gives a little laugh. “My grandparents — on my dad’s side — died within a week of each other.” 

“Seriously?” Aubrey asks, more out of surprise than disbelief. 

“Mhm-hm,” Stacie says with a nod as she tucks her hands into the apron. “I should have known—they always did everything together.” 

“That must have been rough on your family,” she comments softly. 

“Yeah it was hard on my dad. And my little sister was so young, she was so confused,” Stacie tells, her eyes drifting away to stare at a random spot behind Aubrey. 

“Were you close?” 

“Very,” Stacie says. “And it sucked losing them both at the same time but now…” She shrugs, shakes her head softly as her eyes find Aubrey’s again. “It was better this way. Death only hurts for the ones left behind and I’m glad one of them didn’t have to live with that pain.” 

“That’s oddly poetic,” Aubrey says as her fingernail scratches idly at the paperboard coaster under her drink. “I don’t think I’m there yet.” 

“You don’t need to be,” she says with a shrug and a firm look Aubrey’s way. “I’ve had a while.” 

“How long?” 

“As long as you’ve known me.” At Aubrey’s small frown, she chuckles and elaborates. “The summer after they passed away, we moved here.” 

Understanding flits across Aubrey’s face only briefly before that frown deepens. 

“That sucks. Your grandparents died and you moved away from home in the same year?” She shakes her head with a small scoff. 

“It wasn’t all bad.” Stacie can’t help her small laugh at Aubrey’s reaction. “The people here were very welcoming.” 

“That’s the South for ya,” Aubrey says with a proud little smile as she lifts her drink and Stacie reaches for her own glass to clink against Aubrey’s. 

“And I’m very grateful.” 

Aubrey smiles at her over the rim of her glass, watching as Stacie takes a small sip of her water before putting the glass away again and turning to go tend to the two other patrons in the otherwise quiet bar. 

Her own glass is empty by the time Stacie comes back, and her chin is propped up by her hand as she stares into the bottom of it, deep in thought but not so far lost that she misses the way Stacie’s gaze flits down her body and lingers at the neckline of her soft white blouse, where it must undoubtedly be allowing for a generous view based on how she’s curled forward slightly and that piques her interest. 

“Still in contact with anybody from high school?” she asks curiously, pretending not to have noticed Stacie’s badly concealed ogling. 

“A few, most people moved away,” she says with a shrug. “You asking after anybody specific?” 

“Just wondering…” Aubrey says with a shake of the head. “What happened to Beau Buchanan?” 

Stacie’s smile threatens to widen as she keeps her eyes averted and Aubrey delights in the twitch of the smile. 

“He lives in Miami with his husband and their three french bulldogs.” 

“Beau Buchanan is gay?” Aubrey exclaims as she tries to reconcile that image with her memories of the proverbial big guy on campus captain of the football team who dated the head cheerleader. Speaking of, “Did you know?” 

“He told me after junior prom,” Stacie admits and Aubrey’s eyebrows shoot up. “We had an… arrangement.” 

“What kind of arrangement?” she asks, leaning in with interest and Stacie’s eyes go wandering again. 

“High school isn’t easy for anybody and especially not gay kids in the South,” Stacie says and Aubrey has to give her that. “So sometimes, it’s easier to pretend to be straight.”

“Oh, I _know_ ,” Aubrey mutters and Stacie’s entire body seems to halt at the words, eyes narrowing as she studies Aubrey. 

“Do you?” 

“Mhm-hm,” she gives with a nod and a small smile, but she doesn’t elaborate. She taps the rim of her glass, drawing Stacie’s attention to it. 

“Another double?” she asks, keeping her eyes on Aubrey as she reaches for the bottle behind her without having to look, uncorking it and pouring a healthy amount into the glass when Aubrey nods. 

“Thank you,” she says softly before taking a sip and Stacie just smiles, doesn’t stow away the bottle of whisky just yet. 

“This is shaping up to be a really interesting night,” Stacie says in a curious tone and Aubrey smiles when she turns to put the bottle away, taking advantage of the way she bends down to let her eyes linger on the way her jeans stretches across her ass. 

Her eyes fly away when Stacie turns back but she can feel her cheeks warming and she hopes that Stacie doesn’t notice that. 

She’s mercifully called away by the man from the table shuffling up to the bar and muttering something under his breath and Stacie shoots her a quick smile before tending to him, a quick exchange of words and then a few bills pressed into Stacie’s hand before he starts walking away, waving over his head when Stacie calls out a cheery, “Merry Christmas Lee! Get home safe!” 

“Did Lee go?” the man at the end of the bar says, lifting his head from where it had been heavily leaning on his hand and Aubrey had suspected him to be asleep. 

“Yes,” Stacie says with a quiet giggle. 

“I’was supposed to go with ‘im,” the man huffs, heavy grunts coming from him as he climbs off the barstool. 

“I don’t think he got very far,” Stacie encourages and his steps pick up speed. 

“I gotta go,” he says, already halfway to the door. “Bye Stace!” 

“Happy Hanukkah, Toby,” she says and Aubrey watches as an endeared smile takes over her features. 

“Yeah, yeah!” 

The door shuts loudly behind him and there’s some shouting outside that Stacie pays no mind to even as Aubrey keeps her eyes on the door. 

“Doesn’t he have to pay?” Aubrey finally asks after a long silence when she notices the abandoned bottle of beer in the spot Toby has just vacated. 

“I have his card,” Stacie says with a shrug. “And he’ll be back tomorrow.” 

“Huh,” is all she has to say, sipping quietly from her drink and watching as Stacie grabs a rag and moves over to where Toby had been and takes the bottle of beer and wipes down the counter. As she walks back, she deposits the still half-full bottle by the sink before rounding the bar to take the glasses from the table Lee had been at. 

She watches as Stacie collects all the glasses by the sink and starts rolling up the sleeves of her flannel shirt. She’s mesmerised by the familiar way Stacie’s hands move as she pours out all the remaining alcohol from the glasses and starts washing them, the way the muscles of her forearm flex and relax as she works, hypnotised by the movement of her long, dexterous fingers. 

She’s done disappointingly quickly and Aubrey tries not to be sad as Stacie wipes her hands dry on a towel nearby, but then Stacie reaches up and lifts the apron up over her head, letting the top half fall over and fold where it’s tied around her waist and Aubrey’s eyes immediately move to the spot where the flannel buttons up, and where Stacie seems to have left the top few buttons undone and showing more cleavage than Aubrey had expected. 

She’s completely distracted by the sight and Aubrey’s only saving grace is that Stacie doesn’t even seem to have noticed her staring, busy drying the glasses and setting them up on a rack. 

Still, she’s staring pretty hard and she’s not quick enough with looking away when Stacie glances up and on her nearly empty glass and Aubrey startles. 

“Do you want anything else to drink?” Stacie asks with a steadily widening smile as she keeps her eyes firmly on Aubrey while her hands unhook the two soda guns and twist loose the nozzles and drops them in the soapy water. 

“Do I need to leave?” Aubrey asks, and she wants to shake her head at herself with how long it’s taken her to realise that Stacie is cleaning up for the night and so she glances at the clock hanging over the door and notes the late hour. “What time do you close?” 

“No, hey, you can hang out,” Stacie says immediately, drawing Aubrey’s attention back to her and shooting her a sincere smile. “If you want another drink, I’ll start restocking instead of counting the till.” 

Aubrey ducks her head as her cheeks warm slightly and she ends up looking at Stacie through her lashes. 

“I think I should stop at four.” 

“I’m not letting you drive anyway so you can have more if you’d like,” Stacie points out with a teasing smile and she seems to enjoy the way Aubrey rolls her eyes. “I’m taking that as a no?” 

“No, I’m good,” Aubrey says as she looks into the last of the drink in her glass. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Two hundred,” Stacie says, wiping her hands dry again as she moves closer to Aubrey. 

“ _What?_ ” 

Stacie only looks marginally guilty when Aubrey’s eyes snap to hers and gives a soft shrug. 

“You charge fifty for a shot?” she asks even as she starts rummaging through her bag for her wallet. 

“Yup.” 

“That’s extortion.” 

“That’s the price for an expensive bottle,” Stacie says with a small smile. 

“Can I buy the bottle?” she asks and Stacie lets out a low whistle. 

“Of course,” she says. “Big plans tonight?” 

Aubrey just laughs as she hands Stacie her credit card who only has to glance at the Amex Black Card to know what she’s dealing with. 

“Not that I don’t think you aren’t good for it,” she says, holding up the card between two fingers as she grabs the machine. “But I do need to confirm that you’re about to spend seven hundred dollars on a bottle.” 

“What?!” Aubrey exclaims before she realises how loud she’s being but Stacie just laughs in response. “You said it was a three hundred dollar bottle!” 

_“We_ get it for three hundred,” Stacie explains, leaning against the bar and still holding onto Aubrey’s credit card but not charging it just yet. “We don’t _sell_ it for three hundred.” 

“Oh my god,” Aubrey grumbles. “This really is extortion.” 

“Take it up with the people in charge,” Stacie says as she bites down on her lips to keep from laughing and normally it’s something that would only anger Aubrey more but the sight is too endearing to have that effect. 

“Where _is_ Bill?” 

“In Jacksonville visiting his daughter.” 

“So who’s in charge while they’re gone?” 

“Me,” Stacie says and she doesn’t even try to suppress her cheeky grin anymore. 

Aubrey glares at her for a long while and Stacie lets her, crossing her arms almost lazily as she leans her hip even more against the bar. 

“So do you want the bottle, or?” 

“No, thank you,” Aubrey says, lifting her chin and Stacie chuckles as she finally runs the card, punching in the amount due. 

“Do you want to leave a tip?” 

“I don’t _want_ to,” Aubrey grumbles as she drums her fingers along the bar top and Stacie just waits her out patiently. “Put twenty-five percent on the tab.” 

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Stacie says without looking at Aubrey. 

“You don’t deserve it,” she mumbles. 

“That’s definitely true,” Stacie confirms as the machine prints out the receipts and she sets both in front of Aubrey along with a pen, tapping the copy she needs to keep and asking for a signature. 

“Is this why you ‘let me’ not pay immediately after my first drink?” Aubrey asks as she takes her copy of the receipt and her card back, stowing both away in her wallet which she then shoves into the bag on the barstool next to hers. 

The way Stacie doesn’t respond in as answer enough and Aubrey watches with narrowed eyes as Stacie takes the machine and the signed receipt back to the till. 

“You really should have asked how much we charge before ordering,” Stacie chides lightly and Aubrey has to give her that. 

“Tell me this,” Aubrey says, ignoring Stacie’s words to avoid having to admit the truth and Stacie hums to let her know she’s listening as she starts writing something down in a logbook. “What’s Stacie Conrad doing running a bar on Christmas Eve back home?” 

“Toby and old man Lee need a place to drink, holidays or not and Bill likes seeing his kid, so…” She gives a small shrug and lifts her eyes long enough to see Aubrey peering at her curiously, chin perched on her palm. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just wondering,” she says. “So you still live here?” 

“Yup.” 

“Never left?” 

“Nope.” 

“Hm.” 

“What?” Stacie asks, pen pausing over paper. 

“Nothing,” Aubrey says with a shake of the head and Stacie looks like she wants to ask after her motives so Aubrey shoots her a smile. “I’m just curious.” 

Stacie doesn’t look like she quite believes her but she doesn’t press and goes back to the log and Aubrey lets her, the silence between them stretching but not uncomfortable. 

“Now you tell me,” Stacie says after snapping the book closed and tapping it once with her pen before putting it away. “Where did Miss Most Likely to Succeed end up?” 

“Duke, then Stanford.” 

“Lived up to the name,” she says with an impressed look. 

“I suppose,” Aubrey gives. 

“And now?” 

“I’m living in San Francisco.” 

“Long way from home,” Stacie comments and Aubrey nods, shooting her a pointed look and Stacie smiles. “But I’m guessing that’s what you wanted.” 

“I’d go further if I could,” Aubrey says. 

“You could,” she throws back. 

“Not really.” 

“No?” Stacie asks, her level voice betrayed by her eyebrow arching. “Your lover at home set on staying stateside?” 

Aubrey barks out a laugh at that and Stacie seems to delight in it, in how she’s managed to get Aubrey to laugh so freely. 

“Nothing like that,” she says as she shakes her head although her smile stays firmly in place. “I like my job there.” 

“So, no lover at home then?” she asks with a teasing grin. 

“No,” Aubrey says as she lifts the glass to her lips, drinking the last of the alcohol and watching the way Stacie keeps her eyes firmly on her. 

“Okay good.” 

“Why good?” 

“Because that makes me feel a lot more comfortable about you constantly checking me out.” 

Aubrey hates how in the small pause in their conversation her eyes have drifted down _again_ , and at Stacie’s words her gaze snaps up, a guilty smile tugging at her lips while her cheeks grow warm. 

“Oh, don’t feel ashamed,” Stacie drawls, plucking the glass in front of Aubrey and rinsing it. “I’ve been returning the favour.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” 

“Feel ashamed.” 

Stacie quirks an eyebrow at that. 

“You know you’re attractive,” Aubrey explains. “You always have.” 

“Oh, you know that for a fact?” 

“I find it very hard to believe that the most popular girl in school wouldn’t know that about herself.” 

Stacie gives her a small shrug as she goes back to washing the glass and the nozzles of the soda guns. 

“Knowing I’m attractive and knowing you think I’m attractive are two very different things,” she says a while later. 

“I suppose that’s true.” 

“Merry Christmas Stacie Conrad,” she says under her breath but Aubrey hears her and lets out another loud laugh. 

“What’s that for?” 

“A hot girl from my past walks into my bar and calls me attractive and you don’t consider that a gift better than anything Santa could’ve gotten me?” 

Aubrey shakes her head even as her smile widens. 

Stacie doesn’t say anything else, just shoots Aubrey a quick wink as she rounds the bar and starts wiping down each table before placing the chairs upside down on the tabletops. She tosses the rag back onto the bar from across the space with ease, the cloth arching in the air before neatly falling right next to the sink and Aubrey’s impressed by it even though she knows it’s more habit than anything. 

Stacie grabs a broom from a hidden alcove and starts sweeping the floors and Aubrey watches for just a short while before saying, “Seriously, do I need to leave?” 

“You can leave if you want to,” Stacie says with a shrug. “But you’re not in the way, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m almost done anyway and it’s nice having company.” 

“Okay,” she says softly, relaxing slightly as she watches Stacie quickly sweep the floors. 

“What are your plans for later?” Stacie asks and Aubrey frowns softly when she looks at her watch. 

“Later?” 

“After you leave here?” she specifies and understanding flits thought Aubrey quickly. 

“No plans.” 

Much to her surprise, Stacie returns the broom to its spot and moves back to the pool table, racking up the balls in a nice triangle shape for eight-ball. “You any good?” she asks as she nudges her head and urges Aubrey closer, handing her a cue stick as she places the cue ball at its designated breaking spot. 

“I guess we’ll see,” Aubrey says coyly and Stacie lets her break which is her first mistake. 

Aubrey pockets four of her seven stripes before it’s even Stacie’s turn, and the only reason she scratches on her turn is because Stacie finally unties her apron fully and tosses it onto a nearby table and Aubrey’s distracted by the sight of her long legs encased in tight jeans. 

Stacie smiles like she knows what she’s doing and Aubrey barely gets a moment to glare at her before she’s being hip-checked out of the way and she gets a premiere view of Stacie’s behind as the woman bends in front of her and lines up her shot, easily sinking it. 

They trade turns like that, growing increasingly more flirty with each other until Aubrey ups the ante by a margin by running her fingertips along Stacie’s neck and down her chest, following the line of her golden necklace and touches the pendant hanging dangerously low. 

“This is really pretty.” 

“Thank you,” Stacie chokes out, eyes on Aubrey’s face as the pads of her fingers brush against Stacie’s cleavage, cool fingers on heated skin causing her to shiver. 

“Your turn,” Aubrey says in a low voice, her eyes tracking up from Stacie’s chest to her eyes and she really enjoys the flash of something in those green eyes. 

She’s so focused on checking out Stacie’s legs that she doesn’t notice the woman reach up and she almost chokes on her breath when she Stacie bends forward to take her shot and Aubrey can see her breasts almost spilling out of her bra, very visible due to the additionally undone button of her flannel shirt. 

Stacie’s wearing a shit-eating grin when she pockets the shot and Aubrey notes with a hint of dismay that she’s now also able to play for the eight ball. 

“Corner left,” Stacie says as she points and Aubrey knows she only has a split-second to prevent that shot from happening. 

“You have really nice hands,” Aubrey notes softly. Stacie pointedly ignores her, setting up the shot and the moment her arm cocks back to shoot, Aubrey says, “They look like they know how to show a girl a good time.” 

The eight ball does not make it into the corner left, instead flying off the pool table and Aubrey bends down with a giggle to grab it off the floor. 

“Aubrey Posen, you filthy cheater,” Stacie says, hanging onto her cue stick with a small pout and eyes narrowed at Aubrey. 

“I win,” Aubrey simply says, returning her cue stick to its spot against the wall and she’s barely turned around before Stacie invades her space, pushing her back against the wall and leaning in close. 

“No,” Stacie says lowly. “You cheated.” 

“No, I didn’t.” Aubrey doesn’t shy away from Stacie’s threatening stance, lifts her chin in defiance. “That’s not cheating.” 

“No?” Stacie snaps her cue stick into place next to Aubrey’s and that newly freed hand comes up to press against the wall right beside Aubrey’s head. “What do you consider cheating, then?” 

It’s an open invitation, Aubrey realises, and she’s not stupid nor does she intend to be. 

“If I’d done this,” she whispers a second before surging forward and kissing Stacie. 

Aubrey pulls back after getting a taste, mostly because she doesn’t want to be presumptuous and too forward but she’s barely moved away before Stacie follows her, lips crashing onto hers and kissing her firmly. 

Aubrey gasps as her hands fly out to touch any part of Stacie’s body, fingers curling into the waistband of her jeans and yanking her hips closer and Stacie comes closer with a gasp, fingers reaching up and tangling in Aubrey’s hair as her tongue sweeps in and Aubrey’s suddenly overwhelmed by the tangy taste of Stacie’s mouth when the kiss deepens. 

She manages to untuck Stacie’s flannel and gets her fingers underneath and Stacie shudders under her touch, encouraging her to start undoing the buttons as her fingers travel upwards until the fabric hangs loose and Aubrey rips away to get an eyeful of the display. 

Stacie doesn’t remain idle while she gets her fill, though, fingers easily finding the zipper of Aubrey’s tight skirt and yanking it down and Aubrey feels heat coil in her stomach at the low moan Stacie lets out when the fabric slides down her legs easily and she steps out of it. 

Stacie strips her of her blouse next and Aubrey’s starting to feel a little exposed so she tugs at Stacie’s flannel, desire clear and when Stacie stops touching her in order to shuck the soft red fabric, Aubrey pushes forward and kisses her again, their bodies pressed closed together as she moves away from the uncomfortably hard wall behind her, fingers exploring the curve of Stacie’s neck and curling behind her head, a disappointed little huff falling from her lips when she can’t do much more because of Stacie’s high ponytail. 

A soft chuckle and newly freed arms later, Stacie reaches up and yanks the elastic band down until brown locks fall around her face, and Aubrey happily buries her hands in them to muss her hair even further as she keeps moving forward. 

The back of Stacie’s legs bump against the pool table but she doesn’t fall back just yet, instead twisting them and Aubrey gasps when firms hands curl under her thighs and easily lift her onto the pool table. 

The intent is more than clear so she doesn’t hesitate to drop her constantly roving hands to the button and zip of Stacie’s jeans and Stacie doesn’t wait a second to start shimmying the denim down her legs, giving Aubrey a moment to fully appreciate the sight of Stacie Conrad in front of her clad only in underwear that’s soon to be discarded. 

Stacie smiles at her quickly as she stands up again and Aubrey drags her onto the pool table, their lips meeting again in a searing kiss. 

“Are we really going to do this right here?” Stacie gasps between kisses, fingers finding the clasp of Aubrey’s bra. 

“Yes.” 

Later, when there are still tiny sparks of light behind her eyelids and she can feel the blood pulsing in her veins still, Stacie laughs and says, “Yeah, this is definitely cheating to win.” 

_two._

It’s another quiet December night where Toby is nursing a beer and Lee is slumped over at the very end, held up more by the wall next to him than his own hand and Stacie’s sat at the corner of the bar so that she can easily hop around it in the very rare event another patron should come in. 

She has her books spread out in front of her, a notebook with scribbles by her side but she’s using it more to doodle than figure out the mechanics of her thesis and she reads a sentence for the fifth time, the letters swimming before her eyes as she considers giving up for the night when the door creaks open and she looks up. 

The billowing peacoat is enough to have her sit up straight before her eyes rake up the woman’s body, smile widening when she immediately recognises her. 

Stacie immediately closes her books and tosses them into her bag and stashes it behind the bar as she rounds the counter. 

“Hi,” Aubrey says as she approaches and Stacie points to the coatrack by the entrance that Aubrey had missed on her visit the year prior. 

“Hello,” Stacie says with a wide smile as she watches Aubrey hang up her coat and move closer, dropping onto the barstool right in front of her. “Back in town again.” 

Aubrey smiles softly and nods, setting the phone in her hand screen down in front of her at the bar. 

“How’s your grandma?” Stacie asks and something flickers in Aubrey’s eyes as she lifts her head, tilting it slightly to the side as she watches Stacie for a few beats. 

“You remembered.” 

“Well, it’s not a night I’m gonna forget that easily,” Stacie flirts and Aubrey’s smile twitches as she ducks her head to hide it. “What can I get you?” 

“Whiskey soda,” Aubrey says as she avoids Stacie’s eyes. 

Stacie tries, she really tries, not to smile, not to give any part of herself away but her next breath stutters out, almost a laugh and Aubrey’s head whips up and she levels a soft glare at Stacie. 

“Whiskey soda it is,” she confirms as she turns away to pour the drink, sliding it in front of Aubrey a few moments later. 

“Thank you,” she says softly and Stacie watches closely as she lifts the drink to her lips and sips, trying to hide a wince at the low shelf quality of the whiskey. 

“Good?” Stacie asks, can’t help herself and it’s worth the glare the gets in return. “Aubrey Posen back in town. Two years in a row, must be something special.”

“Something like that,” she says vaguely and her expression doesn’t shift, stays perfectly placid as she stares into her glass and Stacie’s always been good at reading people but even if she weren’t, that stoic quiet that hangs over Aubrey is enough to have anybody abandon that line of inquiry. 

“I’m just going to assume you’re back for me,” she teases with a wink and the way Aubrey’s head snaps up, eyes widening ever so slightly, tells her that although it might not be the full story, there is some truth to her words. 

“That’s a bold assumption,” Aubrey says, eyes peering over the rim of her glass as she tries to hide a smile. 

“It’s Christmas Eve and you’re here with me.” 

“Toby and Lee are also here.” 

“More on a physical level than spiritual, if I’m being totally honest,” Stacie throws back with a soft laugh that Aubrey echoes. 

“If you’d rather be alone, I can always go get a drink somewhere else,” Aubrey offers, lifting her glass as if getting ready to chug down the mixed drink but Stacie’s hand shoots out and halts her, keeps her arm on the counter and she takes far too long than is acceptable to retract her hand once she confirms Aubrey’s not leaving. 

“No, you can stay,” she tries casually, voice a little breathless when Aubrey still lifts the glass but only takes a small sip. “Besides, we’re the only place open right now.” 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” 

“Everybody’s doing wholesome things the night before Christmas,” Stacie says with a shrug. “Or shopping for last-minute gifts.” 

Aubrey glances at her watch with a curious look. “Who’s out buying presents at ten?” 

“You’d be surprised,” she says. “Plus, the Walmart’s open twenty-four-seven.” 

“Dire options.” 

“Well, we can’t all afford a Ralph Lauren watch.” 

Aubrey uses her elbows on the counter to straighten her back and turn that curious look onto Stacie. “Nice catch.” 

She just shrugs before tucking her hands into the pockets of her apron, leaning back against the cabinet opposite Aubrey. She doesn’t explain how she knows exactly what brand of wristwatch Aubrey’s wearing and Aubrey doesn’t ask for more so she doesn’t volunteer the information. 

“How come you’re working Christmas?” Aubrey asks, taking them down an entirely different path than Stacie had anticipated. 

“It’s Christmas Eve.” 

“You’re also working tomorrow though, aren’t you?” 

“How do you know that?” 

“You’re not the only one who remembers last year,” Aubrey says vaguely but at Stacie’s pressing look, she relents. “You implied last year that you’d be open on Christmas because Toby would be back.” 

“Good catch.” 

“Thank you,” Aubrey says. “So I was wondering.” 

“My parents are visiting my brother and his new baby,” Stacie says casually and even though she can see it springs countless other questions in Aubrey, she doesn’t add to it. “So here I am.” 

“Working in a bar on Christmas.” 

“Exactly.” 

“You wouldn’t have wanted to go see your brother and his new baby?” 

“I want a lot of things,” she says, voice dropping low as she shifts her legs, eyes never straying from Aubrey’s. 

Aubrey opens her mouth to say something just as the phone rings and Stacie mourns the lost moment as she throws a quick smile Aubrey’s way before picking up the phone. 

It’s not until much, much later, when Aubrey’s glass is empty and both Toby and Lee have shuffled out of the establishment, that Stacie returns to her spot opposite Aubrey, already pouring her a new drink before she has a chance to ask for a refill. 

“You never dreamt of leaving?” Aubrey says as she watches Stacie move around the bar with the familiarity of having done it for years. 

“Who says I don’t?” Stacie asks as she shoots Aubrey an accusing look over her shoulder. 

Aubrey holds up her hands innocently, shakes her head. “I didn’t mean anything by it, just wondering.” 

“Why I stick around?” 

“It’s definitely not what I expected to become of you,” Aubrey says with a shrug, trying for a soft tone so as to not sound too accusing and thankfully, Stacie doesn’t take it that way. 

“Not everybody aches to run away from home, Aubrey.” 

“Yeah, that’s the part where you lose me.” 

“Sometimes,” she starts slowly, and with meaning. “People like where they are.” 

“Even if it means being stuck in one place?” 

“How long have you been out in California?” Stacie asks pointedly. 

“Six years,” Aubrey says. 

“So how are you any less stuck than me?” Aubrey doesn’t have an answer to that, and Stacie smiles because it’s a rare day she gains the upper hand in a conversation with the great Aubrey Posen. “And anyway, like I said, I like it here.” 

“That’s weird.” 

“I’ve definitely been called worse things,” Stacie throws back with a wink before rounding the bar to start collecting glasses. 

Aubrey doesn’t turn to watch her and Stacie uses the opportunity to really check out the blonde, the curve of her spine and the way the soft blonde locks cascade down her back. 

Once the tables are cleared and the glasses dropped by the sink, she looks for the rag she’d had before and notices it’s behind the bar, right in front of Aubrey and she could go around to grab it but she’d like to see if Aubrey had returned to her this year in anticipation and hope for specific activities. 

“Hey, sorry,” she says quickly, moments before she brushes the length of her body up behind Aubrey’s, hand falling to her hip to keep her in place as the other arm stretches out and reaches for the rag behind the bar. 

She enjoys the way Aubrey’s breath halts as she smiles and leans back to press more of her body into Stacie’s, and the way she tilts her head ever so slightly is so enticing that it takes almost all of Stacie’s willpower not to drag her lips along the skin she knows to be silky soft. 

“Thanks,” she whispers into Aubrey’s ear instead, voice low and raspy and she can feel Aubrey shiver against her before she pulls away again, hand dragging along Aubrey’s spine until only her fingertips linger and then there really is no reason for her to be touching anymore so she fully retracts her hand and turns away to start wiping down the tables and hears Aubrey’s ragged intake of breath. 

“You could’ve asked me to hand it to you,” Aubrey comments a little later and Stacie glances over her shoulder with a small grin. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” she throws back and Aubrey shifts on the stool so her back is to the bar, elbows perched on the counter behind her as she lazily watches Stacie move around the space. 

The silence between them is loaded and Stacie can feel Aubrey’s eyes on her as she quickly tidies up and sweeps the floors before returning to the bar. A quick glance Aubrey’s way and down to her glass elicits a soft shake of the head, and Aubrey digs in her purse for her wallet before sliding her card over to pay and Stacie tries not to smile as she punches in the numbers, much lower than the previous year’s amount. 

“Any tip?” 

Aubrey’s lips twitch and Stacie tries not to be too affected by the sparkle in her eyes. 

“I have cash for that.” 

“How gracious,” she murmurs and charges the card. 

Aubrey signs the receipt with a quick flick before tucking her copy and card back into her wallet and watching as Stacie quickly counts the till. 

“Is it a habit of yours?” Aubrey asks, fingertip drawing a random pattern onto the polished wood of the bar top. 

“What?” 

“Letting people stay after closing?” 

“Consider yourself special, Aubrey Posen,” she says with a quick wink and revels in the smile it produces. “And I want a rematch of last year.”

Aubrey laughs softly, shakes her head. “No, thank you.” 

“You won’t grant me the opportunity to right a wrong?” Stacie asks and that draws another soft laugh from Aubrey. 

“Nope. You want it too much,” she gives with a smile when Stacie’s eyes narrow. “I’m afraid it’ll spur you to use extraordinary measures.”

“Oh, like cheating?”

“Yes.”

“Like you did last year?” 

“I never cheated,” Aubrey says with a shake of the head and a plain smile, not in the least ruffled by Stacie’s accusation. 

“We both know that’s not true.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t know flirting when you see it. I’d have expected better of you, Stacie.”

“Oh, is that what was happening?” she returns coyly. 

“It’s happening right now, but you just can’t see it.” 

“Who says I don’t?” 

“This is going to be a thing now, isn’t it?” Aubrey asks and the smile Stacie throws her way is predatory and full of promise.

_six_

“Should I be insulted that you haven’t come to see me this year?” 

Aubrey’s already smiling as she turns to face Stacie but she has to work hard to keep that smile kind as she trails her gaze down Stacie’s body to take in the dark red dress. She’s sure that on the hangar the dress might have looked perfectly modest but on Stacie’s body it looks criminal, clinging to every curve and Aubrey’s briefly, irrationally jealous that the fabric gets to brush up against all her favourite spots on Stacie’s body. 

“You look nice,” is what she manages to say as she lifts her head and notices that Stacie towers over her, and her gaze briefly flickers down to take in the high heels. 

Every time they meet up, Stacie’s in sensible shoes and she’s the one wearing heels so this change shoots a flash of heat down her spine, the height difference a thrill. 

“Thank you,” Stacie says with a pleased little smile and a preen. “So do you.” 

“Thanks,” Aubrey says as her eyes drop to Stacie’s ample cleavage and flitting away as soon as she realises it, mouth going dry. 

“What are you doing here?” Stacie asks, gesturing around them and Aubrey holds up her room keycard. 

“I’m staying here. I should be asking what _you’re_ doing here,” she throws back with a quirk of the lips, and doesn’t add the “looking like that” but it’s implied. 

“You’re staying at a hotel?” Stacie asks as her brow furrows. 

“Yeah.” 

“You don’t stay with family?” 

“God, no,” Aubrey scoffs and she’d expected her words to abate some of Stacie’s confusion but her frown seems to deepen as her fingers fiddle with the clasp on her small bag. “One of the perks of moving away is getting to regulate family interactions and that includes staying in the comfort of a nice hotel.” 

Stacie’s smile twitches as she tilts her head in agreement. 

“So…” Aubrey says, sinking her hands into her trouser pockets to avoid doing something stupid like touching Stacie. “What brings you to the Grand?” 

“Dinner,” Stacie says and doesn’t add anything to it, just gestures vaguely to the restaurant behind her. 

She keeps eye contact with Aubrey, a sort of half-smile taking over her features as she almost dares Aubrey to ask for more information. 

“Just, for fun?” she asks, taking the bait. 

“Sure, let’s say that.” 

If she weren’t so curious about what Stacie’s actually doing there, Aubrey would enjoy her playful, provocative ways more. 

“ _Should_ I be insulted?” Stacie asks, swaying closer to Aubrey and dropping her voice low as she whispers the words practically into her ear. 

“That I haven’t come to see you?” Aubrey asks even though she doesn’t need to. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“No,” she says. “You shouldn’t be insulted.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Aubrey twists into her, tilts her head up so her cheek barely brushes against Stacie’s and her mouth is close to her ear. “I thought our tradition was Christmas Eve?” 

Stacie gasps softly, her surprise exaggerated to take advantage of their proximity and Aubrey pulls away enough to see her face and quirk an eyebrow. 

“What?” 

“You’re saying I’m not your first stop when you get to Morningside?” 

Her fingers flutter against her chest, drawing Aubrey’s eyes there again and she almost gets lost in the delectable view, fingers curling into fists in her pockets as she fights the urge to haul Stacie closer to her and kiss her in plain view of everybody in the lobby. 

“You’re my favourite stop, if that makes up for it?” she finally says. 

“Hmm, jury’s still out,” Stacie says with a light shrug as she steps away. 

“What if I make it up to you?” 

“How?” 

“Let me buy you dessert,” Aubrey offers. 

“I’ve already had dessert with my dinner,” she throws back with a twitch of the lips. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Aubrey Posen.” 

“Well I didn’t want to be presumptuous,” she starts, shifting from one leg to the other as she briefly glances at the hallway where she knows the bank of elevators are. “But I know another way.” 

“That _is_ presumptuous.” 

“Yet you haven’t said no.” 

“I haven’t,” Stacie says and Aubrey tries not to let her delight show too much. “But I don’t know if I’m that type of girl.” 

“What type of girl is that?” she asks. 

“The type of girl who has dinner with one person and then goes home with another on the same night.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that…” Aubrey gives with a shrug even as her eyes stay firmly on Stacie. “If it was just a fun, innocent dinner.” 

“Who said it was innocent?” 

The flash of jealousy she feels is entirely unfounded and she keeps the smile on her face as she says, “Stacie?” 

“Hm?” 

“Were you on a date?” 

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business,” she says but the twinkle in her eyes and the pull of her smile give her away and despite knowing she has zero claim on the woman, Aubrey still feels a flash of irrational envy. 

Stacie’s smile widens like she knows, and enjoys, the effect of her words and it takes Aubrey double the effort to keep her voice level and light as she says, “Well, I’m going upstairs.” 

Her hand finally appears from her pocket, holding her room keycard between her index and middle finger and drawing Stacie’s attention to it. 

“And?” Stacie asks, adjusting the coat draped over her forearm. 

“Would you like to join me?” she says as she steps away to keep some perspective. “For a… tour.” 

“I’m not interested in seeing the room,” Stacie says as she sweeps some hair over her shoulder and squares her shoulders back and Aubrey’s eyes drift to all the gorgeous skin on display. “If that’s the tour you’re offering.” 

“I’m not,” she says with a flash of a smile.

“Good,” Stacie says as she snatches the keycard out of Aubrey’s grasp and walks past her, only glancing over her shoulder to make sure Aubrey is following her. 

Aubrey smiles as she trails behind her, taking advantage of the view before they ride the elevator up to her room. Later that night, with Stacie arched under her and moaning her name and with nails digging into her back, Aubrey kisses her firmly and asks her again, and doesn’t let her climax until she gets the correct answer and after finally admitting that she was on a date, Stacie flips them and pins Aubrey down with those strong, amazing thighs, smiling dangerously when Aubrey says, “Isn’t this so much better than whatever you were doing downstairs?” 

_six, continued._

“We’re closed,” Stacie calls out when she hears the door open, lifting her head a second later and pausing with her hands still in the soapy sink water. 

“Then you should really lock the door,” Aubrey says as she closes it behind her, leaning back against the heavy wood with a small smile. 

She must take Stacie’s silence as encouragement, her heels clicking on the bar’s wooden floor as she moves forward and shrugs out of her coat, hanging it on the coat rack before settling on the barstool right in front of Stacie. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” she says, trying not to lose herself in the coy, half-smile Aubrey throws her way. “Drink?” 

Aubrey shakes her head. “I don’t want to keep you.” 

“Then why are you here?” she asks and if her words carry a little bite it’s only because something hasn’t been sitting quite right with her since seeing Aubrey a few days prior. 

“I just wanted to see you.” 

“You saw me yesterday,” she throws back as she keeps her attention on the row of glasses she still has to wash up. 

Aubrey just hums and doesn’t pick apart her cool tone, watching her silently as Stacie goes through the motions. 

“You don’t have a dishwasher here?” Aubrey asks after watching her for a while. 

“We do, but this is quicker and I won’t have to wait for the dishwasher to be done,” Stacie explains with a small smile and Aubrey nods and they fall into another quiet lull. 

Aubrey fidgets in her seat and Stacie makes a conscious effort not to look up at the woman because she knows she’s being watched closely and even in her peripheral vision she can see Aubrey’s soft frown. 

“Why aren’t you married?” she finally asks. 

“What?” Stacie says with a sharp, incredulous laugh, looking up to try and understand where that question’s come from. 

“I don’t know, I’m trying to make conversation!” Aubrey says as she throws up her hands, shrugs helplessly. 

“And that’s what you went with?” 

“I don’t know what else to talk about.” She shakes her head, gives another shrug. “You went on a date yesterday, so I just—I don’t know.” 

“What makes you think I should be married?” Stacie asks, propping her hands on the edge of the sink as she pauses to really watch Aubrey try to respond to that. 

“I don’t know…” Her gaze flits away, a hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Never mind.” 

“Just tell me.” 

“It’s just—isn’t that like, I don’t know, the standard template? Stick around town, marry the high school sweetheart, three kids by thirty?” 

Stacie watches her in silence, her face perfectly placid as Aubrey speaks and it’s not until she’s done that she notices something in Stacie’s eyes flicker darkly. 

She’s not sure what it is about Stacie that makes her feel like she never quite has both feet firmly on the ground, and the mounting silence makes her fidget and continue talking instead of keeping her mouth shut as she should. 

“So I was wondering why you weren’t.” 

“Married with kids?” Stacie parrots back slowly, wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her apron. 

“Yeah.” 

Stacie scoffs then, shakes her head. “Fuck you, Aubrey.” 

“ _What?_ ” 

Genuinely surprised by Stacie’s words, she watches with a frown as Stacie efficiently wipes her hands on the towel tucked into her apron, rounds the bar and walks over to the door. 

“We’re closed,” Stacie says plainly, hand on the doorknob and staring at Aubrey expectedly. 

“You’re kicking me out?” 

“Yes, because we’re closed. I have to count the register and you can’t be here for that.” 

“I have been before,” Aubrey fights immediately although she knows that’s not what she should be protesting. “Stacie—” 

“Let’s just say I’m better at my job now and leave it at that.” 

“No,” Aubrey says, refusing to budge from her seat and crossing her arms. “I don’t know why you’re pissed at me and I’d like to know.” 

“Fine,” Stacie says with a tired sigh. “I’ll tell you,” she starts slowly. “You blow into town once a year with your fancy shoes and expensive perfume and you act like everybody here is beneath you, including me, and you think that shit doesn’t get old?” 

“I don’t think you’re beneath me,” Aubrey responds immediately, frown deepening when Stacie scoffs immediately. 

“Yes, you do,” she says. “You think you’re better than everyone here because you ran off to an expensive school and transformed yourself into some big shot who makes more money than a person will ever need and you think that because I work in a bar and because I still live here, that I haven’t done anything with my life.” 

Aubrey stares at her with her lips parted, a few beats of silence as she processes Stacie’s words and Stacie can see the fight well up inside her and she’s almost grateful for it. 

“I don’t think that at all, but it does sound like you’re projecting real hard here,” she finally defends. “It’s not my fault you have a problem with my career.” 

“There it is again.” Stacie chuckles mirthlessly, shakes her head. “Aubrey, you don’t know me at all.” 

“Why would I?” Aubrey throws back, voice sharp. 

It takes a lot of effort for her not to cry at that because it sucks, it absolutely _sucks_ that the girl she likes so much thinks she’s only good enough for an annual twisted sort of conjugal visit and Stacie has really tried to get rid of her feelings for Aubrey, feelings she’s had for a stupidly long time that she’d hoped would lessen with every bitchy and uppity thing Aubrey does so she twists her hurt into anger and wields it like a weapon. 

“Because you clearly don’t think you’re too good to come home every year for a decent fuck.” 

“I come home every year to see my grandmother and you’re an added bonus,” Aubrey says. “As if you don’t look forward to the excitement every year.” 

“I don’t!” she exclaims, taking Aubrey by surprise.

“What?” she asks softly, all the fight seeping out of her with those words, her shoulders curling in as she pins Stacie with a questioning look. 

“I know what you think of me and it makes me feel like shit and I still let it happen because I don’t know how to say no to you and the sex _is_ really good,” Stacie admits, gaze skittering away from Aubrey’s as the hopelessness of her situation finally, truly, registers. “And you know what? Even if I were just a girl who works in a bar and never left town, it doesn’t mean I deserve to be treated like this.” 

“ _Even if you were_? What does that mean?” Aubrey presses, never looking away from Stacie as she tries to process the wealth of new information being thrown her way. 

“Figure it out,” Stacie says, her eyes finally meeting Aubrey’s in challenge because opening herself up like this is much more than she ever would have wanted from this confrontation and she’s already starting to regret it. “We’re closed. Please leave.” 

As if to further illustrate how much they’ve grown in separate directions and changed since seeing each other regularly, Aubrey doesn’t fight her on the words, just gives a small nod and gathers her things, grabbing her coat as she goes and not even taking the time to put it on. 

She’s halfway out the door when she turns back and Stacie doesn’t look up from where she’s intently inspecting the spot in front of her, jaw clenched. 

“I’m sorry for putting you in such a difficult situation all these years.” She swallows thickly as she watches Stacie, waiting for any type of reaction. “It won’t happen again. Merry Christmas.” 

She clearly sounds hurt and it’s a little hard to hear but another — more destructive — part of Stacie revels in the fact that Aubrey’s getting a taste of her own medicine. 

The door closes behind her with a lacklustre click and Stacie finally breathes out, head dropping as her eyes close. 

_nine._

Stacie stares at the figure leaning against the high glass railings, not quite believing her eyes and even less so the odds of them both being here. 

Her mouth gets away from her, and her voice is low but crisp in the winter air. 

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that a long lost Titan…” 

The woman startles at the sound of Stacie’s voice, had clearly expected to be alone and there’s a small frown on her face as she turns away from the view of a snow-blanketed Central Park but when her eyes fall on Stacie the expression softens, something in her eyes shifting as her shoulders square back. 

Considering she’d had a moment to herself before speaking, Stacie doesn’t expect to be so floored by the sight of Aubrey, three years and hundreds of miles away from where they’d last seen each other. 

“Hi,” she manages with a small smile because for as badly as things had ended between them, she is happy to see Aubrey. 

“Hi.” 

“What are you…” Stacie stops, shakes her head softly when she realises how stupid her question is. “Hi.” 

“You already said that,” Aubrey throws back with a small smile, her eyes bright with amusement. 

“Yeah, I know.” Stacie shrugs. “I just never thought I’d see you again.” 

Her smile seems to dim then, gaze skittering away from Stacie as she buries her hands in her coat pockets. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” she says with an attempt at a teasing smile but despite all the years, Stacie still knows her better. 

“No, that’s…” She looks like she’s ready to walk away so Stacie steps closer with a hand out, pausing halfway when she realises she’s not sure what she’s trying to do, so her hand hovers in the air between them. “I’m happy to see you.” 

Wary as she looks, Aubrey still manages a small smile, and something in her eyes shifts, drawing Stacie closer to stand next to her, both gazing out at the view. 

“I don’t say this a lot but,” Aubrey starts, throwing a quick glance Stacie’s way before looking away again. “You were right.” 

“About what?” Stacie asks as she tries to wrack her brain for anything she might’ve missed and coming up short. 

She takes a deep breath and holds it, as if steeling herself. “You were the only reason I kept going back home after that first year.” 

Stacie’s next exhale comes out a little sharply, surprised by Aubrey’s confession. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” she admits with a sad smile and a soft shrug. “After my grandma died, there really was no reason to go back.” 

“Wait—your grandma died?” she asks, completely taken for a loop. 

“On Boxing Day that first year,” she says, avoiding Stacie’s eyes as she frowns softly. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” 

“It’s alright, I never told you.” She shrugs then and lifts her gaze long enough to show her the words are sincere. “For what it’s worth, I never thought you were beneath me, I’m sorry I let you think that.” 

“It’s alright,” Stacie says with a shrug of her own because the years have certainly mellowed out and dissipated any resentment she might have harboured and she can’t find it in herself to dredge that emotion up after Aubrey just told her she’d been going home for years just to see her. 

“I actually—” Aubrey shuts her mouth with a definitive click, biting down on her lips as she twists away, back to the view and Stacie’s suddenly intrigued, steps closer to her to stand at the railing next to Aubrey, curious as to the odd way Aubrey seems to be steadfastly staring out and avoiding her eyes, especially after cutting herself off so abruptly. 

“What?” 

“I know it might seem like I always talked about my life to make it look like I was better than you but I just…” Aubrey says slowly, her hand briefly appearing to tuck hair behind her ear in what Stacie knows is a nervous habit. “I wanted to impress you.” 

“What?” she barks out with a sharp laugh because Aubrey had been trying to impress _her?_ “Why?” 

“Are you serious?” Aubrey asks, levelling a frown at her while her eyes flicker between Stacie’s to see if she’s kidding or not and Stacie’s genuinely surprised by the words. “Because you’re… you.” 

Stacie’s not sure what to do with that and her blatant confusion must be visible on her face because Aubrey softens slightly, her hand disappearing into her coat again as her shoulders curl forward slightly. 

“I’ve always thought you were out of my league,” Aubrey finally admits as she turns away again and Stacie feels her whole world come crashing to a halt. 

“Huh,” she says dumbly, words failing her as her mind rushes with the new information. Aubrey doesn’t say anything in response and so Stacie also turns to stare out at the view while Aubrey’s confession rolls around in her head. “Since when?” 

“What?” 

“Since when have you thought that?” Stacie asks, turning to look at her and Aubrey’s cheeks bloom pink and it holds Stacie’s attention. 

“Junior high,” she says quietly. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Aubrey says with a hollow laugh. “Pathetic, right?” 

“No,” Stacie says immediately. “Not at all. It’s just—I had a crush on you in high school.” 

“You’re just saying that,” she says sharply as she turns to look at Stacie with a frown. 

“I promise I’m not,” Stacie says and her smile steadily widens as she fully grasps the reality of their situation. “Tell me about your crush and I’ll tell you about mine.” 

Aubrey’s cheeks darken even more and Stacie can’t look away. 

“You were new and exotic,” Aubrey starts to explain. “Our graduating class all grew up together, we went to the same school since kindergarten. And then you show up out of nowhere the first day of middle school with your east coast accent and your boots and your iPod and your parents who let you do whatever you wanted and we all thought you were so cool.” 

Stacie remembers that first day vividly but not for the same reasons Aubrey apparently has. She recalls being so incredibly scared about going to a new school in a new town where everybody already knew each other and she knew nobody, and not only was she from out of town, she was from up north and her cousins had preemptively freaked her out about moving to “the South” as if she’d had a choice in the matter. 

She’d been so scared of being the new kid that she hadn’t ever stopped to consider that to everybody else she was the new, _cool_ kid. 

“And then on top of everything else, you were just so nice,” Aubrey continues, a fond little smile taking over her features as she basks in the nostalgia. “You were so pretty and super smart and always kind and everybody liked you and I was so…” 

She chuckles then, and Stacie marvels at the sight of her cheeks flushing even darker. 

“Gay.” 

Stacie can’t help the laugh that bursts from her chest, knowing that feeling all too well. 

“Sophomore year,” Stacie finally says in response and Aubrey doesn’t look her in the eyes but she does turn her head to show she’s interested in the story. “When we were paired up for that bio project.” 

“Really?” Aubrey asks, finally meeting her eyes. 

“Why is that so surprising?” 

Aubrey just shrugs and doesn’t elaborate but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she thinks so lowly of her past self and it’s one of the things Stacie had mourned the most when she’d realised how much Aubrey had intentionally changed about herself after she’d left for college. 

“You were so focused on getting a good grade for that project.” 

“I was a monster,” Aubrey whispers with a hint of shame colouring her tone. 

“No, you weren’t,” Stacie says with a small smile as she thinks back to the teenage version of the woman. “You didn’t have time for anything or anyone that wasn’t in your plan for the future. It was admirable and I was crazy intimidated, but you were also so fucking adorable and I was hardcore crushing on you the whole time.” 

Aubrey stares at her for a long while, her lips slightly parted and her brow furrowed and Stacie has to laugh softly at the picture of bewilderment she makes. 

She just smiles wryly and nods to appease whatever doubts Aubrey may be having and the woman finally turns away and closes her mouth, even if her frown remains. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called adorable before,” Aubrey muses, clearly still processing the confession. 

“That’s a damn shame.” 

Their gazes lock and Stacie’s smile eases at the intense look being levelled at her, as if Aubrey still can’t actually believe the words and Stacie understands how she feels, still can’t believe they’re in the same place all these years later and talking so openly about the past and their feelings. 

“I was halfway in love with you,” Aubrey says softly, the easy smile dropping away as she glances around the night sky. 

“In high school?”

“No.” 

“And now?” 

“Does it matter?” Aubrey asks, the words carrying more meaning than any look Aubrey could’ve sent her way and Stacie feels the air violently leave her lungs as an odd disappointment settles in her, the clear way Aubrey means to say that it’s in the past not lost on her. 

“I suppose not,” she says and because she’s steadfastly not looking at Aubrey to prevent herself from making this more difficult, she misses the way Aubrey’s expression fully drops at that, how she has to swallow thickly to try and lessen the tight feeling in her throat at Stacie’s dismissive answer. 

Aubrey lets out a sort of half-laugh, half sigh and it draws Stacie’s attention to her, finding Aubrey’s golden-green eyes already on her. 

“Merry Christmas, Stacie.” 

Something on her face must give her away because Aubrey shoots her a wry smile before ducking away, back into the warm comfort of the party with her hands still in her pockets to keep the coat from billowing out too much as she walks and Stacie just watches her go, confused by the sudden panic that wells up in her chest, the tightness gripping the breath in her lungs that only gets worse when Aubrey disappears into the crowd of people. 

_nine, continued._

When Aubrey opens her front door, she’s surprised to find Stacie there, her coat halfway unzipped but the scarf still wound tightly around her neck and both her coat and her knitted cap are covered in a healthy dusting of snow and Aubrey’s eyes widen when she realises Stacie must have walked here from the party. 

The more pressing matter, however, is that Stacie’s at her front door, which means that not only did she somehow figure out Aubrey’s address but that she also managed to make it past the doorman without Aubrey’s knowledge. 

“Stacie,” she says softly, trying to mask her concern. “What are you doing here?” 

“I realised…” Stacie shakes her head, trying to clear her mind and flurries of snow drop to the ground. “You kept coming back for me.” 

She has to stifle her exasperated sigh as she leans against her door. “I told you that.” 

“I know, but… Your grandma died? That first year?” 

“Yes.” 

“But I asked you about her after,” Stacie points out and Aubrey can see it’s something she’s been thinking about over and over again. “You said you were visiting her.” 

“She was buried in town with my grandfather,” Aubrey admits, because she knows that the way she phrased it over the years was slightly misleading. “I went to leave flowers and say hello. I don’t know why I never told you, I just… I enjoyed spending time with you without that sadness looming.” 

“Oh.” 

The fervour that had clearly driven her to Aubrey’s door seems to die down at that as her shoulders sag and more snow drops to Aubrey’s hallway. 

“How did you get my address?” Aubrey asks when it looks like Stacie’s not going to say anything else. 

“Oh, Cynthia Rose gave it to me,” Stacie says with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Since when do you live in New York?” 

“A few years now,” she answers quickly to get the question out of the way. “How do you know Cynthia Rose?” 

“She’s married to Flo.” 

“How do you know _her_?” 

“We were grad school roommates,” Stacie says. “How do you know Cynthia Rose?” 

“She was my undergrad roommate,” she replies with a soft laugh at the coincidence but Stacie still looks serious, her eyes intently scrutinising Aubrey and she suddenly becomes incredibly self-conscious about how she looks. 

She’d changed out of her dress as soon as she’d gotten home, opting for leggings and her softest, biggest sweater that keeps falling off her shoulder and she’d put up her hair in a messy bun, yet Stacie, despite being covered in snow and wearing layers, still looks amazing, even after she roughly tugs off her beanie and runs a hand through her long, dark tresses. 

“It matters,” she says out of the blue and Aubrey’s confusion grows tenfold. 

“What matters?” 

“If you still have feelings. Of course it matters.” 

“Oh,” Aubrey says as she finally realises the weight of Stacie’s words. 

“Earlier you said—you asked if it matters, I thought you meant that—but I’ve had like 4 miles to think about it and I—you were asking if—whether it mattered and I thought you were saying that you didn’t anymore so—and I—” 

“Stacie!” she says sharply, trying to snap the woman out of her rambling as she fully registers the misunderstanding that had left her heart in tatters all over again, in a way she hadn’t thought she’d still feel three years after it was originally shattered. “Breathe.” 

“I thought…” she starts slowly after a deep breath and Aubrey shoots her the most encouraging smile she can. “When you asked whether it mattered, that it meant you didn’t have feelings anymore. So I said no because I didn’t want to look like the pathetic loser who was still pining after the girl from high school with the beautiful smile and the larger than life ambitions.” 

Aubrey just stares at her while warmth fills her chest, hope blooming as Stacie stares at her with a nervous look. 

“I asked if it mattered because I wasn’t going to put you in an awkward situation if it turned out that I was the only one with feelings,” Aubrey admits softly, carefully, fingers reaching up to tuck the few loose tendrils behind her ear. 

“You’re not,” she says firmly. “You kept coming back for me.” 

“All I ever wanted was for you to like me,” she whispers, hating the tears that well up in her eyes and Stacie sways forward before stopping herself, swallowing thickly. 

“You kept coming to me,” Stacie says in the same hushed tone Aubrey had, a hopeful smile flickering across her face. “So in the spirit of Christmas, I thought I’d come to you for a change.” 

“I don’t have any alcohol,” she says and Stacie gives a short chuckle, shakes her head. 

“I don’t care.” 

“Stacie,” she says softly, watching as her smile grows so wide it’s infectious. “Would you like to come inside?” 

“Yeah,” Stacie says as she stares back at Aubrey. “I’d really like that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> leave me your thoughts!
> 
> (im not back, so please don't ask me about Kaleidoscope.) 
> 
> Thanks <3


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